


Bird In The Thyme

by fElBiTeR



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, Jealousy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Rook’s fascinated with Joseph’s toplessness, Spoilers, Tattoos, just a little bit, of course, there will be, topless Joseph Seed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-04-22 07:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fElBiTeR/pseuds/fElBiTeR
Summary: Rook remembers the others in the helicopter waking up, a struggle with his seatbelt, the heat of the flames, running and stumbling, Joseph Seed’s unnerving stare, and then nothing.The world eventually gets quieter and quieter the longer he spends in Hope County.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote this a couple of days after the game came out but people were churning out such good quality fics for the Far Cry 5 tag so I was like how the heck can I publish my crap now? but here it is. Updates will happen as often as I can be near a computer. I love you guys, and thanks for listening to my Ted Talk.
> 
> the /John Seed is very very minor in chapter 3

Rook coughs himself awake, mildly aware of the flames of the damaged helicopter licking at his skin. He looks up at the ground and squeezes his eyes back shut from the vertigo that rapidly hits him and sends his stomach reeling. He realizes that he’s _upside down_ and dangling off a helicopter seat with the seatbelt pressing alarmingly tightly against his waist. The back of his throat burns and bile is threatening to force its way out of Rook’s stomach.

“Is anyone there? Anyone?” crackles to life through a headset.

Rook’s mouth tastes like iron and dirt and broken dreams. He just wants to keep his eyes shut and pretend like nothing’s wrong. What had happened? How did the helicopter crash?

Rook can hear parts of the broken helicopter creak and groan under the weight of the sky. A vivid image of someone jumping off the back of the helicopter and into the rapidly whirring blades flashes violently in Rook’s mind. _Oh_. That’s how.

“If anyone’s there, please pickup! _Please_ ,” the headset comes to life again. Rook tries shifting around, but finds himself extremely stuck.

“It’s time to wake up and face the music,” a voice besides him says, almost in a tone of revelation.

That same person continues humming, a raspy voice heartily singing, “ _Amazing grace. How sweet, the sound_.”

 _That saved a wretch like me_ , Rook mouths the rest of the lyrics to himself.

How can someone be singing while the world is burning?

Rook opens his eyes, but everything he sees is just a blurred mix of orange sparks and grey shadows. He blindly reaches for the loose headset, feeling a leap of joy when his fingertips find warm metal. He grabs onto it as if it were a lifeline and tugs it closer to him.

Someone clutches his arm and grips it firmly, stopping it in its tracks. It hurts, the fingers digging into his skin, and that’s saying something, compared to the dull ache in the rest of his body.

“That saved,” the person sings, staring into Rook’s soul.

“A wretch,” he continues staring, “like me.”

Everything is a mess. And in the center of that mess is a person.

And that person is wearing Ray Bans?

Rook’s vision clears up and he realizes that Joseph Seed is way too fucking close to his face.

 _His face is all scratched up but his glasses are fine_? Rook thinks deliriously. Joseph lets go of Rook’s arm. Rook knows that if he survives this, he’ll spend a long time examining and looking over the finger-shaped bruises on his right forearm.

Rook doesn't really know what’s going on around him, apart from the sounds he’s taking in. It’s sort of quiet. There’s the crackling of the fire still burning the helicopter down, the quiet shuffling of cultists reloading their guns, and the muffled mix of screams, shouts, and whispers. The background sounds lull Rook into a tired stupor, and he almost wants to hang there and just let the fire consume him and all his problems.

“Are you there? Is somebody there? Please,” the headset breaks Rook out of his trance. Rook finds himself struggling to remember the name of the person on the other end after being hit with another wave of dizziness.

“I told you God wouldn’t let you take me,” Joseph utters, his lips quirking upward. Rook finds himself wanting to say that most of the work was done by Joseph’s cultists, and _not_ by God. He finds that his jaw aches just like the rest of his body and he can’t speak, let alone barely breathe.

Joseph Seed’s staring is unnerving. It really is like he’s looking deep into Rook, looking for sins sewed into the back of his heart. Joseph’s eyes are terrifying but elated, and there’s something else that Rook can’t quite place.

“Please. I need to know what’s going on,” the voice through the headset cries. It hurts to even swallow.

“Dispatch,” Joseph says gently, still maintaining his deep stare towards Rook. “Everything is just fine here. No need to call anyone.” There’s a gasp.

“Yes, Father. Praise... be to you.”

Rook’s jaw tenses with anger. She had been on the _cultists_ ’ side, that _backstabbing littl_ e—

Joseph drops the arm holding the headset and leans closer to Rook, as if he wasn’t close _enough_ already.

“No one is coming to save you,” Joseph whispers eerily. Rook can do nothing but watch in despair as Joseph climbs out of the helicopter to greet his followers, the rest of the Peggies. An unexpected twinge of something bitter churns in his gut when Joseph leaves Rook alone with his thoughts for the Peggies.

They all eye Rook as if he were scum at the bottom of their shoes, or rotten meat in their backyard trash bins. Rook is exhausted, and he hates the Peggies with just as much vigor. He just doesn’t have enough strength to be angry _now_.

Rook remembers the others in the helicopter waking up, a struggle with his seatbelt, the heat of the flames, gunshots, running and stumbling, and then nothing.

He wakes up and becomes the face of the resistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s so short and my writing style’s weird unf I’m so sorry uwu


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this game and its music are both so beautiful i cant help but love the heck out of it

Rook’s at the border of Faith and John’s regions when he gets a surprise visit from a hoard of Peggies. Surprisingly enough, they don’t kill him right after their overwhelming numbers force Rook to his knees. Instead, they bash a shovel to his head, spit at his feet, and maybe that’s the fourth time Rook’s passed out in the last week.

Rook’s tied to the end of a bedpost, dehydrated, and running on no sleep. When he wakes up, his head spins and spins until he gets a grip on himself and breathes slowly and properly. It’s quiet, except for the gentle hum of machinery, and there are enough footsteps outside the room that Rook can’t tell how many people there actually are.

He notices Joseph Seed right away, him and his bare back facing away from Rook and messing with some stuff on a table by the door. The symbol of his cult is prominently displayed on his back, and words are imprinted into his skin.

More specifically, some of the seven sins are, and to be even _more_ specific, gluttony is carved above the symbol in scratchy capital letters. Below the symbol is greed, with a scar running through it. Maybe the strikethrough is deliberate. Maybe it isn’t. There are plenty of other scars that are littered across Joseph’s broad back, but the thing that stands out the most is the gigantic _LUST_ scrawled only slightly above the small of Joseph’s back.

The word etches itself into Rook’s mind, making him wonder why Joseph has this particular sin engraved so violently when John and Jacob don’t. Come to think of it, of all the times Rook has ever seen Joseph in person, he has never seen him with a shirt on.

Rook has to reluctantly admit that it… affects him a little bit.

Joseph slowly turns around, as if he knew Rook were awake the entire time, and Rook immediately attempts to averts his stare, feeling like he’s been caught with his hand in a metaphorical cookie jar.

Joseph Seed is lean and fit and looks to be in perfect physique, and Rook knows it isn’t just for show. He’s seen firsthand what Joseph can do. He’s seen Joseph lug bodies over his shoulder with ease, snap necks with his strong, rough hands. Joseph isn’t afraid to do the dirty work that leaders usually avoid.

But Joseph also knows how to stay calm, and they say that a cold anger is more dangerous than a hot one.

Joseph shows no sign that he can read Rook’s mind, which is a relief. He also seems amused at Rook’s obvious gawking.

Rook’s cheeks light aflame in shame and he does his absolute _best_ to keep away from Joseph’s piercing stare.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Joseph asks kindly. Rook opens his mouth to respond _yes_ but shuts back up because he won’t take this kindness. It’s false, and Joseph is a psychopath. Or a sociopath. Either way, he’s a cult leader with the blood of many many lives on his hands. On his strong hands.

Joseph doesn’t get angry at Rook’s silence, luckily for him.

Rook hasn’t ever seen him really angry, either. Rook hopes that he doesn’t ever have to.

Joseph produces a loaf of bread and a cup from behind him, and offers it to Rook. Rook immediately recognizes the liquid in the cup to be wine, and although yes, Rook is hungry and thirsty, he’s more tired than anything else.

“Bible allusions, huh? Well, I guess I’m David, then,” Rook says bitterly, eyes flickering to and from Joseph and the floor. Joseph puts the bread and wine back down and kneels besides Rook.

“Look at the good I have done for this place. I have freed these people of their sins, of their selfish entitlements!” Joseph gestures upward, putting one hand on Rook’s knee. Rook can feel the warmth of Joseph’s hand through his jeans, as if they were burning a handprint into his skin. It takes almost all of his will to ignore it and stay angry at Joseph.

“You ruined this county, you cultist piece of shit! You took the land away from the innocent and made them live in fear. You killed the innocent. How is anything you did good?” Rook cries in dismay, not thinking of the consequences of his words and Joseph may take them. Joseph removes his hand and drops it to his side.

“Hush, my son, for it is God’s will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish people,” Joseph responds with a smile, putting his index finger to his mouth in the universal symbol of ‘be quiet’.

“You—!” Rook begins, but Joseph cuts him off by jerking his thumb towards the direction of the door. Rook shuts himself up and quietly watches what happens next.

“I’d advise you to stay here. It’s a big county out there, and I wouldn’t want my little lamb to get lost,” Joseph uses his knuckles to gently tilt Rook’s head up and force him to make eye contact. Rook flinches away from the touch, twisting his body the other way.

“But if you get lost, I _will_ find find you,” Joseph says, almost sweetly, and Rook’s cheeks go red. _There’s no second meaning behind Joseph’s words_ , Rook tells himself, very convincingly.

Joseph gets up from his crouched position besides Rook and leaves the room, giving Rook one last reprimanding but amused look before gently shutting the door behind him.

Rook breathes out a sigh of relief.

There’s still a lingering warmth in the all places Joseph laid his hand on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s short. i know this and im sorry. 
> 
> But I do love you guys


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im exhausted and my eyes burn but

Rook almost immediately hears Faith, Jacob, and John’s voices through the wall after Joseph leaves.

“I say we slice his head off,” Jacob’s voice rumbles without hesitation, loud and clear through the wooden walls. "He's too dangerous."

“Have you forgotten your compassion, brother?” Joseph’s muffled voice answers.

“We haven’t forgotten anything, but we fear you have too _much_ compassion for this fool,” Faith argues back. Some delirious part of Rook thinks that now would be the perfect time to drop a bomb at their location. All the Seed siblings are in one place, after all.

“You want to keep him!” The tone of John’s voice is accusatory. Someone says something too quiet for Rook to make out.

“Maybe I do,” Joseph says quietly, barely audible. A shudder of something dangerous shoots up Rook’s spine.

The floorboards to Rook’s left creak and he turns his neck so fast he almost gets whiplash. It’s a tired and battered looking young man climbing through the window with fresh fear in his eyes.

He has a pocketknife in one hand and cuts Rook free with it, shaking the entire time.

When they’re both out of the cottage and the guy is leading Rook somewhere new but still in the vicinity, Rook asks, “You’re a cultist, aren’t you?” He nods but doesn’t say anything. The rest of the walk is silent.

They sneak into a room filled with other scared people. The all look reluctant to be here.

“Leave with me and help us fight them,” Rook begs.

“Deputy, we live to do the Father’s work,” they respond.

“You don’t really believe in that wild ‘you are all sinners and you need cleansing’ bullshit they’re spouting, do you?” Rook desperately asks. The prisoners all shake their heads.

“We have no other choice,” one of them sorrowfully steps up to say. “The most we can do is try to help _you_.” No one moves. That’s enough for Rook to understand that they really won’t come with him. It’s sad, in a way, that they don’t actually want to live. This is Joseph’s doing.

 _This is Joseph’s fault_ , he thinks, as turn the corner around the last cabin closest to the woods. He’ll be free in a few steps.

A familiar face with rolled up sleeves emerges in his field of vision—

It’s _John_.

Rook had accidently let his guard down because he thought he was close enough to the dense forest to lose anyone trailing him. Clearly he was wrong. Clearly he hadn’t been thinking about anyone already being there. _Shit_.

Before Rook can turn the other way, their eyes meet and Rook freezes in place.

John has the sense _not_ to freeze in his tracks and leaps forward to tackle Rook into the ground.

Rook wheezes as he hits the floor, elbowing John hard in the ribs as he goes down, but John still doesn’t let go. Rook struggles and flails his limbs, hoping he can hit John in the face or maybe even take a eye out, but to no avail.

“Stay still,” John grunts, jabbing Rook hard in the abdomen with a shotgun that he’s managed to hold onto after tackling Rook.

Rook’s still twitching disobediently when something in between the trees catches his eyes. 

 _Grace_!

He sees her but she doesn’t see him, which is just his luck.

Rook opens his mouth to yell for help, but as soon as he does, a hand clamps over his mouth before any sound comes out.

“Oh no you don’t,” John breathes hard, glaring down at Rook, putting his other hand securely behind Rook’s head so that his hands are in the position to snap Rook’s neck at anytime. Rook must have been staring too long at Grace and John must have noticed it.

Rook’s been stupid lately. Maybe it has something to do with the bliss he inhaled just the other day. Who knows?

What Rook _does_ know is that he’s not going back with John to Joseph and the rest of the crazies, so he swallows his pride and licks the palm of John’s hand right over his mouth.

John yelps and jumps back a little, and in that moment of weakness, Rook scrambles up and stomps on John’s left knee, bounding into the forest and not looking back.

The sound of a shotgun going off is missing as Rook approaches Grace’s location. 

John isn’t chasing him down. John isn’t shooting after him.

Rook pretends that he hadn't seen John’s face turn red for a fine second when Rook licked his palm.

He pretends that he hadn’t felt the back of his own neck heat up when John’s other hand tugged harshly at Rook’s hair at that same moment.

 _And they say pride is my greatest sin_ , Rook thinks as he waves Grace over, Boomer in one hand and her rifle in the other.

Rook could almost feel John’s eyes following the back of his head all the way there, he swears on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah mY HAND SLIPPED HELLO JOHN SEED


	4. Chapter 4

It's almost ironic. The next time Rook sees Joseph is by complete accident, and he’s almost convinced that it didn’t actually happen due to his recent increase in bliss intake.

It’s a little before noon when Rook decides to take a breather by leaving Boomer behind and going on an easy trip to a Henbane River prepper stash. He’s in Faith’s region, and there’s no reason for Joseph to be here at all. 

It’s a nice day and the clouds are suspiciously bluer than the sky itself, lazily drifting high above the ground and migrating in unison, westward with the wind. 

Unfortunately for Rook, he doesn’t even  _ reach _ the goddamned prepper stash before things turn sour and an onslaught of bullets bombard him, and it must be by a miracle that he isn’t caught by any stray bullets. The Peggies have been extremely aggressive lately, and it’s Rook’s own fault thinking he could go and raid a prepper stash in  _ peace. _

He’s shakily staggering through the forest with probably eight Peggies on his trail and no weapons on his person when he decides to take a ninety degree turn and cut back into a path towards the Henbane River. He figures maybe it’ll be safer on the other side of the river, and the Peggies won’t be bothered to cross so far just to get Rook. Maybe he’ll even be able to shake them off just by turning a different direction. They’re not  _ that _ smart, after all.

When he exits the forest and catches sight of the calm currents of the river, he also realizes that he’s stumbled onto Joseph Seed, who is somehow always shirtless whenever Rook runs into him. 

Rook now has several crazy yahoos who want to kill him behind him and an insane cultist leader in front of him. He doesn’t know what’s worse.

What’s Joseph doing on the edge of the Henbane River anyway? 

Surprisingly, Joseph's hair is down and isn’t tied into a bun. His hair’s  _ wet _ and there’s water dripping from his chest. It’s the first time Rook’s ever seen him look so... genuinely _relaxed_.

Why is Joseph Seed always goddamn _ shirtless _ ? Why is Rook’s brain so stupid?

Joseph acts as if he doesn’t notice Rook showing up at all.

Rook can’t help but stop for a moment and forget about the Peggies after him, despite the alarm bells going off in his head. It feels falsely safe, almost like the world’s been put on pause.

That is, until Joseph untucks what looks to be a small .22 or 9mm pistol from his belt and aims it at Rook’s head with a neutral expression gracing his features.

Any semblance of peace that Rook feels is immediately shattered by the sight Joseph’s acute stare and his unwavering right hand pointing a gun at Rook’s face.

In the moments before what Rook imagines is his death, Rook thinks,  _ did I feed Boomer yet?  _ and promptly shuts his eyes in wait for the sound of a gunshot and the end of his thoughts.

Call him a blasphemous heretic, but after the whole incident is over, Rook takes a second to thank God that Joseph, for some odd reason, is fixated enough on Rook to value him more than a rowdy, loud-mouthed Peggie who can’t think for himself. 

Joseph fires a shot right past Rook’s head and then casually tosses the gun aside to go back to what he was doing before. 

Rook’s left ear rings without any sign of stopping, and he hopes there’s no permanent damage to his hearing as he reluctantly turns around to see what Joseph shot at.

To see  _ who _ Joseph shot at would be the better word choice. There’s a Peggie on the ground, face frozen in an expression of shocked betrayal. He has a bullet lodged somewhere in his chest and looks to be grasping onto life, grasping onto the short stubs of grass on the ground in hopes of finding something sturdy to hold onto as he dies. He lets out a gurgled choke that sounds muffled to Rook; Rook’s ear is still _ringing,_ high pitched and horrible. It is, however, a better fate than dying. 

Rook watches as the Peggie claws at his own chest, maybe thinking that he can somehow miraculously remove the bullet. Looking at where the wound is, Rook can conclude that saying Joseph Seed has good aim is an understatement.

Rook stares until the Peggie stops moving completely. Joseph Seed just killed one of his cultist followers.

He then looks back at Joseph who’s now basically shamelessly skinny dipping in the river. 

Rook watches as Joseph’s lips curve up in a sort of half smile. Joseph knows exactly what he’s doing.

Rook doesn’t hesitate to take off and run the hell back to safety with the sobering thought of Joseph Seed being completely and utterly sane filling his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is shitty and im so sorry  
> you guys deserve better
> 
> //also, italics work now! ;;a;; I don’t have to manually add them in anymore,,,, ao3 bless you


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise ! im still alive,,, sort of

Rook needs to stop getting into situations where the Seed brothers feel some sort of small obligation to assist him.

Rook’s ankle is shattered to pieces, after tumbling off a little cliff not watching the ground in front of him, more preoccupied with trying to aim at the Peggies chasing after him. You’d think after this long, they would have run out, but there seemed to be an infinite amount of Peggies in Hope County.

So it would make total sense that Joseph goddamn Seed finds him at the bottom of that cliff, and that he feels the need to carry Rook over his shoulder like some invalid despite a tiny injury to his ankle. Shattered ankle, not too bad. He can totally just walk it off. He’s had worse.

What makes _this_ situation worse is that Joseph goddamn Seed continues to be allergic to shirts for some reason, and now Rook is stuck staring at the glistening sweat on Joseph’s bare skin until he’s put down. Rook gets an eyeful of Joseph’s shoulder muscles rippling everytime he adjusts his grip and Rook thinks _oh man, the fireman carry is the worse thing ever invented_ as he feels a small ache in his gut.

And what makes it _even_ worse is that Joseph Seed hasn’t said a word. He just picked Rook off the ground with some mild protesting and limb flailing, and hasn’t spoken at all yet.

Joseph abruptly slows his pace, stopping, and when Rooks turn his head, he can see a small cabin, or shed. A small shelter. It seems good enough for Joseph, with night time approaching rapidly over the darkening horizon, almost already over their heads, and Joseph gets the door open with one hard but easy kick.

Joseph is really _strong_. Rook feels a jolt of arousal shoot through his spine; he can’t help but shake a little. He then prays to god that Joseph doesn’t feel it.

The small smile that Rook sees on Joseph’s face when he’s finally set down gently onto a bed doesn’t bode well for him.

It almost doesn’t surprise Rook when Joseph produces a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket.

His right hand is chained to the bed post and he’s left unable to do anything but sit and lie on the comfortable mattress.

Rook tries to focus on other things as Joseph turns around to do something; the shack is quite small, the kitchen, if you can even call it that, is combined with the bedroom into literally one living room, with the single bathroom Rook can see from his angle.

Rook watches as Joseph turns the sink faucet, and no water comes out. Joseph makes a _tsk tsk_ noise that goes straight to Rook’s gut. Why does Rook’s brain think that’s hot? Or remotely attractive? _Why_?

Joseph sifts around the cabinets for a while and— _oh my god_ , Rook almost chokes on his saliva. There’s no running water in this place, but there’s a _bottle of wine?_

Joseph presents the bottle to Rook in a knowing, glowing smile.

“The blood of Christ?” Rook asks, sighing as Joseph gets the bottle open by doing some crazy shit that eventually pops the cork out.

There’s no cups.

Joseph continues smiling as he brings his lips to the top of the bottle and takes a deep sip, eyes never leaving Rook’s. Then he holds the bottle out to Rook.

Rook eyes the bottle.

He _is_ sort of thristy.

Rook takes the bottle and does his best to ignore the implications of an indirect kiss and Joseph’s close proximity and his shirtlessness and that ever penetrating stare.

Rook is mid-sip when Joseph finally responds playfully, speaking for the first time during this encounter, voice low and scratchy and _not hot_ , “The blood of the Father.”

Rook promptly _does_ choke, sputtering and coughing his lungs out. Joseph’s smile is almost threatening.

They don’t finish the bottle, and Joseph leaves it at the bedside table before _climbing onto the bed with Rook._

“What—” Rook begins, but is met with a gentle shushing. And then Joseph’s face gets way too close, so Rook quickly flips to the other side, so he isn’t facing Joseph who is now right behind him. Rook’s breath quickens in a mild panic. Joseph is _spooning_ him. _And_ Rook’s back and neck and literally his entire body is vulnerable to the insane cultist in bed beside him.

Rook’s whole body stiffens in fear when he feels Joseph’s hand on his head— _oh god, he can’t see what going on behind him_ —and then Joseph’s hand is _in_ his hair, _stroking_.

It feels… nice. Rook does not press his head closer to the hand combing through his hair.

He finds his eyes tired and struggling to stay open, but feels pretty reluctant to be on such a low guard with _Joseph_ right behind him.

***

Rook’s jolted awake when he’s pretty sure he feels Joseph pressing a kiss to his temple.

He tries to stay awake.

***

He falls asleep anyway, to Joseph's soothing, repetitive movements.

***

Rook surprisingly wakes up before Joseph does.

It’s 9:03.

And then he carefully gets out of the bed as quietly as he can, not waking Joseph, but the elbow of the hand still cuffed to the bed catches something on the edge of the table that ends up falling and breaking with a loud crash.

Joseph, by some god forbidden miracle, doesn’t wake up.

Ironically, the bottle unfinished of wine from last night is now in pieces on the floor, spilled blood, along with jagged sharp, dangerous pieces of glass.

 _Jagged sharp, dangerous pieces of glass_ , Rook realizes in amazement, picking up the largest piece with his uncuffed hand.

It’s sharp.

It’s 9:07.

His eyes fall on Joseph’s open and vulnerable throat. And then he looks back at the piece of glass in his hand.

He could end everything here. Even if he never gets out of the cuffs and is stuck starving next to a rotting body, if he does this, the cult will collapse without its Father.

Rook’s hand shakes.

His mind thinks _holy shit Joseph is asleep and I can kill him right now_.

He inhales deeply, shakily, slowly bringing the piece of glass closer to Joseph’s throat.

Rook’s hand hovers there for probably fifteen indecisive indefinite minutes as he watches the calm rise and fall of Joseph’s steady breathing and how he sleeps with his lips slightly parted and the way he looks so peaceful and _unconflicted_ instead of the insane cult fuck that he most definitely is.

Rook is a god awful person. He could be saving thousands of people by doing this, quick and easy, but he can’t. He can’t.

Rook squeezes his eyes shut in regret but they snap back open when the wrist of the hand holding the glass suddenly _hurts_ and once he gets his eyes back open, it’s Joseph, oh, _it’s Joseph_ , it’s “Joseph!” and why does Rook feels ashamed for being caught like this?

It’s 9:32.

He drops the piece of glass immediately when met with Joseph’s cold and angry—no, not angry, not the right word—almost wrathful stare.

“I didn’t—I wasn’t going to—” Rook stutters, unable to explain the situation.

It feels like the world pauses for one slow moment as Rook hangs his head in shame, despite being totally justified in his action.

The wrath turns to a wistful look, and then into understanding when Joseph sees the violent shaking of Rook’s hand, still in his tightened grasp.

“How long have you been awake?” Joseph says, instead of being direct.

“About half an hour,” Rook mumbles. “I swear, I wasn’t going to—I don’t want to—” Rook’s words fail him.

Joseph tugs him back onto the bed so that Rook’s back to sitting, with his weight off his fractured ankle.

Joseph gently cups Rook’s face and leans forward, staring, staring—Rook averts his eyes—staring, staring, staring—and lightly presses a kiss to Rook’s forehead, then the corner of his left eye, then his cheek, and Rook is frozen where he sits, too frightened to scramble back or even to get up and give Joseph Seed the punch that he deserves.

Three kisses.

Taking advantage of Rook’s unmovingness, Joseph drags a finger down Rook’s throat, lifting it slightly, revealing how his Adam’s apple is bobbing up and down.

Rook knows his face must be red and flamed, with one of Joseph’s hands on his throat and the other softly caressing his cheek in gentle rubs.

(and maybe Rook is suddenly a teenager, able to get hard only with a few touches)

Rook can’t move. Rook doesn’t even know if he _wants_ to move.

“The Lord forgives you,” Joseph says, suddenly, and Rook knows his heart is giving out—

“I don’t want forgiveness,” almost leaves Rook’s mouth, almost spilling out the way the leftover wine in the glass spilled onto the floor in a waste.

“Go,” Joseph hums, and suddenly Rook’s hand is freed from the cuffs. A thought of how Rook can still kill Joseph passes through his head but he ignores it and lets it fade, and then he’s bounding out the door, shoeless, running with hot dirt and rock and sharp small pebbles beneath his feet digging into his skin, breaking and crushing grass as Rook tries to erase the last day from his head, approaching an abandoned quad bike.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im an awful person
> 
>  
> 
> here’s an update a whole year later
> 
>  
> 
> ! also just realized i dont know what the hell the singular word for Peggies is,,, is it Peggy? Peggie? Aww man I've probably been spelling it all wrong >:((
> 
>  
> 
> edit: Hey y’all so I came to the startling realization that for the past year, starting a few weeks after the game came out, my brain LITERALLY tuned out the ending of fc5,,, so i FORGOT that all endings of this damned beloved game are shitty and holy crap everyone dies and bombs? nukes?? that’s the canonical ending??? and now i am in despair and am wishing to be an oblivious idiot again. thanks for listening to my ted talk


End file.
